Chapter 33
He focused, target in sight. Slowly he squeezed the trigger until the shot broke and a hole appeared on the head of the black-painted, human-shaped cardboard target. Another shot followed, hitting the chest-area this time. Then another one that punched another hole close to the latter one.
Satisfied with his results, Eliot lowered the pistol and went over to a desk that was close-by and packed with different other weapons and ammunition.
Yes, he was still underaged and not allowed to posses guns, but that didn't stop the teenage boy from using his father's weaponry at the family's private shooting range behind their house on the far edge of Arcadia Bay, where nobody was bothered by the noise, since there was a lot of uninhabited land and woods around the big property.
He unloaded the semi-auto pistol with routined procedure and then pondered about what gun to use next as Terry's voice called over from the house.
"Yo, Big El, my man!"
Both then gave each other a brotherly hug, before Eliot replied "I'm good. And you?"
"Good, good," Terry then said, already scanning the weapons on the table. "Care if I take a few shots?"
"Be my guest!" the brunette boy returned, picking up a different pistol while his friend chose a scoped AR-15 Assault Rifle.
Both were then standing at the range, ready to fire as Terry looked through the scope and read the name that was written on the target.
"Dude, you're still not over her?" he scoffed and added "How long has it been now? 6 months? Time to let it drop and move on, man."
Eliot released a barrage of shots, before answering "This bitch insulted me in public. Made me look bad in front of others."
"Damn, man, you slapped her right in the face in front of half of the Academy. What'd you expect?" Terry replied, sending a few rounds down the range as well. "You can be glad that she didn't file some report on your ass."
"Oh really?!" shouted Eliot back, waving his gun around, which made the other boy feel kind of uneasy. "My dad had to pay Blackwell a check after Wells started to ask questions 'bout my mental state. And our attorney is busy keeping her step-mother at bay so that she wouldn't sue my family. In what fucked up world is that 'didn't file a report'?"
"Fuck, man!" Terry scoffed, shaking his head as he was putting the rifle back on the table. "But y'know," he then said, now wielding a pump action shotgun, "she already got what she deserved. I mean, some dude already beat the shit outta her and fucked her pussy properly. So, maybe that was some kinda Karma?"
"Karma? You really believe in that shit? Where's the Karma when it comes to your crush, huh? Fuck Karma!" Eliot just scoffed out and took aim again while Terry stayed quiet and pondered about his friend's words. "Believe me, justice will only be done, when her punk-ass is rotting between the trash of some junkyard."
And then he sent another bunch of shots from the gun, which all hit the target's head.